


Let's Not, Spencer

by Megrrrs



Category: Psych
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megrrrs/pseuds/Megrrrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a case gets personal (as does Shawn), Carlton Lassiter has to confront criminals, prejudices, and emotions. Lassie hates all three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Not, Spencer

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely Shassie story with discussion of bisexuality.

It had all started with a bloodied body. That was what Carlton saw anyway. Abrasions and contusions on the body of a vic. But Shawn saw something Lassie didn’t. They would never see things the same.  

Carlton shifted in his seat uncomfortably.   Shawn was in the middle of prancing through his psychic routine in Chief Vick’s office.   

“I see- Colored Knights.” Shawn twitched his fingers. 

“Renaissance Fair?” asked Gus playing along.   

“No. Nights with no K.  White Nights. Wait.” Shawn groped Gus’s head. 

Almost biting his lip, Lassie tried not to punch Guster in the face.  This was really difficult for Lassie. Shawn shouldn’t be touching Gus that much. Sure, Gus was Shawn’s best friend, but grown men shouldn’t paw each other like that. Lassiter rationalized his anger.          

“No, Gregory Hines. That can’t be it. Colored lights.” As Shawn continued on, Lassiter tried not to listen too closely. He knew this routine as well as they did.  Groping brought up some other feelings too.  Emotions that Lassie would rather not examine    

He realized the room was waiting for an answer from him. Snapping back to reality, Carlton could only say “huh?” 

“The hate crime at the Neon Door,” Chief Vick prompted. 

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” With half of his mind, he briefed them on the status of the most current gay bashing victim near the nightclub. With the other half of his brain, he moved those unwelcome thoughts out. Well, at least in a dark corner.    

Shawn pointed Carlton and Jules. “You have no leads.” 

“We have an eyes out on some of Santa Barbara’s more active hate groups, Neo Nazis, and some out there religious groups. So far-” 

“No leads,” Shawn repeated triumphantly. “Put me in there, Chief. I can do this.”  

“I’ll go undercover.” Lassiter stood up.   

With evident sarcasm, Shawn brushed right past Lassie. “Yeah, you scream Stonewall.” 

Juliet chimed in, “Shawn’s right.”  

“Why is this so important to you, Spencer?” Lassiter asked angrily. 

Shawn sighed and turned to the room as a whole. “I’m bi. It means something to me, all right. That could’ve been me or one of my friends.” 

“Not me,” Gus asserted quickly.  

“Everyone knows you’re straight.” Shawn laughed but not in the way that sounded as if he thought it was funny.  

“You can’t seriously think about sending-” Per usual, Carlton felt desperate to keep Shawn from danger. It had almost escaped his attention that the psychic had admitted he was attracted to both sexes. 

Vick interrupted thoughtfully. “We don’t have any leads in this case. Mr. Spencer, I want you to be careful. Juliet will go in with you.” 

Carlton objected. “It’s a gay bar… for men.” 

“A lot of women go to gay bars. I’ve been to the Neon Door myself.” In response to the raised eyebrows, Vick continued, “For a bachelorette party. No woman will get hit on in a bar for gay men. O’Hara is his back up.” 

Before the Head Detective could formulate an argument, the Chief gave him a damning look. “Dismissed” 

Everyone seemed happy with the assignments except Carlton.  He was seething. As he stomped to his desk, Shawn made some smartass remark that made Gus laugh and Juliet giggle. Carlton felt his showing Shawn his middle finger, but instead grabbed some extra ammo out of his desk and headed off to the range.      

  

That night found Lassiter sitting alone in his car watching the entrance to the Neon Door.  Shawn and Juliet were wired so he could hear everything up to and including a tiny shushing noise that had to be Shawn’s heartbeat. 

Carlton tried to hear Juliet’s too but couldn’t. However, the detective didn’t want to investigate that too closely. Regularly, he checked in with the Chief who was across the street in a hotel room that was serving as the site command center.   

Normally after hours of listening to Shawn’s pick up lines and investigating, Lassie felt bored and pissed.  Tonight, however, he listened that little closer. Something about Spencer picking up men was intriguing.          

Knowing Shawn was bisexual was making Lassie interested and jealous. The Head Detective shook himself and tried to focus on something Juliet said. The break might be going down. Shawn’s mic sounded muffled. Jules said, “oh my god!” 

“Chief?” Lassiter checked in on the radio. 

“I hear, Carlton.” 

A sharp report came through loud and clear. A gunshot! 

“Shot fired!” he shouted. “I’m going in!” 

“Stand down, Detective!” came across the radio. “Stand down!”  

Drawing his weapon, Lassie barreled straight into the club. “What the f-?” All he could see in the crowded club was bodies hurtling to the floor. He had to find his partner and get Shawn to safety.     

Shouts and screams accompanied Lassiter as he sighted with his Glock. Safety flipped off. Fingers caressing the trigger, ready to fire.     

“Murderer!” shouted several people. 

“Where?” Carlton swung around trying to establish the whereabouts of Juliet and Shawn.  

He didn’t loose his gun stance one iota, but he was relieved when Juliet popped into view. “No! Carlton! It’s okay!” 

“Lassie!” came another shout, a very distinct one. “Come on, let’s party.”  

“What?” Lassiter was confused but lowered the weapon. 

“My boyfriend everybody! Totally the alpha.” Shawn was still playing to the crowd. “Sexy, did I forget to tell you that they shoot off a blank for last call?” 

Lassie gritted his teeth.  

As he walked toward the glowering cop, Shawn mouthed “P-T-S-D” to the crowd at large or it may have been “C-O-P-D”. 

Holstering his weapon, Carlton was taken by surprise when Shawn grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss. The psychic’s lips were a little chapped and it wasn’t long enough. 

Lassie couldn’t let him go that easy. With a strong grip born of stress and adrenaline, the detective held Shawn in place and began kissing him.  It was a thorough deep kiss.     

When they separated, Shawn visibly regrouped. “Not getting any?” he tried to laugh to off.  

Lassie couldn’t laugh as he let Shawn go. He just couldn’t. It hurt too much. 

   

“Detective Lassiter,” Chief Vick looked pissed as she paced the hotel room command center. “What were you thinking? No, don’t answer that. You just blew cover for Shawn, not to mention Juliet.” 

“Chief,” Carlton said dully.  He didn’t even want to think about what had happened, but it kept running through his brain.    

“You drew your weapon in a crowded nightclub, frightening a lot of people. You endangered this entire investigation.” 

Shawn, Juliet, and Gus walked in. Lassiter took one look at Shawn’s face and turned away. Facing this commanding officer, he said, “You’re right. I royally screwed up.” 

“Then we are in agreement.” There was a definite knife-edge to Vick’s voice. “You’re off point. O’Hara take it.” 

Juliet nodded, but Lassiter could see the worry lines in her face.  He wanted to tell his partner it would be okay. But he couldn’t get his mouth to say the words. 

As Lassiter started to shrug off his suit coat, Vick walked over and lowered her voice. “Go home. That’s an order, Carlton.“ 

Pulling the suit coat back on, Lassie stalked off. Still in his mind, he felt the sensations of kissing Shawn.  The other man’s lips and tongue had felt right against his and so horribly wrong.     

“Lassie.” Shawn started after him.  

Carlton vaguely heard Juliet say, “No, he needs to walk.” 

“In this neighborhood? At this time of night?” Gus sounded unsure.  

Whatever quip Shawn came up with, Lassiter never heard. He was walking out in a daze.    

  

Carlton thought that if there were any night to get drunk this would be it.  He refused to allow himself the luxury. There would be no drunk dialing anyone. It was a torturous night of punishing thoughts and running until he puked. 

By morning, he was on a no sleep, caffeine high. Drinking his tall coffee with cream and sugar, Lassiter strode into headquarters. He had decided that it was odd to have kissed Spencer, but it Carlton had been attempting to make the best out of a bad decision. To maintain Shawn and Juliet’s cover, he had played along, acted interested. 

Under no circumstances was Carlton ever going to set filthy perverted hands on Shawn Spencer again. This was a plan. Lassiter was a bit proud of it.     

It worked too. Right up until the point Shawn caught him in the Records Room.   “Lassie-taffy. Let’s talk.” 

“Let’s not, Spencer.” 

“It’s not a biggie. Your mom’s a lesbian.” Shawn looked genuinely confused.  

“Don’t bring her into this.” Lassiter’s voice was low and dangerous. Slamming the drawer closed, he stalked toward the only door.   

Shawn moved to block him. “Lassie-” 

“Don’t call me that.” Lassiter grabbed Shawn by his ridiculous Count Chocula t-shirt and rammed him into the nearest filing cabinet. 

As the men crashed together, Carlton could feel his rage exploded. He was blinded to everything but his hands pinning Shawn to the cabinet. For once, the psychic didn’t have a smart response. 

Lassiter let his hands fall away. In that moment, he felt his carefully built life had a chink. Through that slight opening in his soul, emotions came crashing through.    

It was open mouths, hot and wet. So much better than last night, and last night had been a hell of a kiss. Carlton shoved his hands up the back of Shawn’s shirt and groaned into the kiss. Shawn’s hands were occupied holding Lassie’s head in place as their tongues tangled.     

“Gosh” came an awfully familiar voice. No one in whole station would ever say that but McNabb.      

As Lassiter came back to his senses, Buzz was trying to apologize and blushing furiously. 

Wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, Lassie bolted.    

“Wait. But I know who did it!” Shawn called, but Lassiter never heard him.  

“Did what?” asked Buzz. 

Shawn sighed looking after Lassie. “Is targeting the gay community.” 

 

Carlton sat looking out at the marina, the boats, and the fishermen returning from a long day out on the water.  His arms were spread wide over the back the bench, but his posture was slumped. 

Again he touched the reassuring butt of his Glock in his shoulder holster. His expression was grim. Thinking was painful but was all he could do.  The previous days flashed through his mind on a continuous stomach-churning loop.     

“Thought I might find you here,” a familiar voice said.     

“Hello, Henry.” Calton’s tone was distracted still caught in the tangle of past events. He didn’t bother to turn his head even in greeting.    

“Mind if I-“ Henry walked around the bench. When he caught sight of Carlton’s face and the Glock slightly unholstered, his face changed. After so many years of police work, Henry knew all the signs. 

Carlton moved his fingers slightly, which Henry took as acceptance.  They sat together on the bench for several long minutes.  Both staring out at the Santa Barbara marina as day shifted toward evening. 

Henry began, “He’s worried about you.” 

When Lassiter didn’t respond, Henry continued, “We are all worried about you.” 

“I am finished.” There was paperwork, but O’Hara could do it.  Carlton forgave himself for dumping that on her.    

Henry scratched his head.  “According to Shawn, you ran outta there and didn’t look back.” 

When stark silence descended, Henry took his cue to change the subject away from Shawn. “You have friends.”  

“Friends?” echoed Carlton.  

“Juliet” Henry started. 

Carlton interrupted dully. “Should be working the case.” 

“Suspect is in custody. Right about now, she’s checking every shooting range in a hundred mile radius. Karen is-“ 

“The Chief? She heard? She knows?” Carlton looked very ill.   

“Yes, but I found you.” Henry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like lucky me. 

“My career is over.” His thumb caressed the Glock again.  

Looking over at Carlton, Henry grimaced. “I’m done. I can’t do this.” 

Carlton didn’t bother to ask. He simply said “Thank you for coming, Henry” and watched with disinterest as the lights flicked on at the marina.    

Henry stood up and started to walk away. He stopped and said angrily over his shoulder, “So you kissed Shawn? He’s not worth dying for.” 

“Yes, he is.” A hint of fire crept into Lassiter’s voice. Carlton looked directly at Henry’s receding back. “I’ve put my life on the line for him before, and I’ll do it again.” 

Henry, the Human Lie Detector, stopped turned around slowly. To Carlton’s amazement, Shawn’s dad was smiling.  “I knew I would get you with that. Now, we can talk.” 

Henry walked back and took his seat. “You kissed Shawn. You probably have feelings for him.  Maybe in love with him. Maybe for a long time. Am I right?” 

Carlton looked back at the water and tried to remember what was so intriguing about the boats. He had been sitting staring at them for hours. Now that the sun had set everything looked ordinary, not like one extraordinary fake psychic. “Douche bag” 

Henry smiled. “Not the answer to my question, but let’s roll with that.” 

Looking at the older man, Carlton recognized the wolfish expression. “Am I being interrogated?” 

“As Shawn’s old man, I get to do that. You kissed Shawn?” 

“As part of the case.” Carlton rubbed his face in his hands.    

Sarcastically, Henry replied, “Yeah, I would much rather you kiss my kid in the line of duty than because you, ya know, actually wanted to.” 

“I wanted to.” Carlton swallowed. 

“So, you’re gay.” Henry shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”  

“I can’t be gay. I still love Victoria. I have loved other women.” Carlton looked confused. 

‘You’ve never heard of bisexual?” 

Stubbornly, Carlton clung to his pride. “I don’t want to be one. “ 

“Fine. You’re straight. You can go to gun shows and wear a sign that says: ‘I’m heterosexual.’ And have closeted men pat you on the back. I walk away and find Shawn and tell him you aren’t interested, not even close. Because you’re a 100% straight man. Knowing Shawn, he’ll skip town, and you may never see him again.” 

Henry made to stand.  Carlton grabbed his wrist to prevent him walking away. His grip was strong and wouldn’t easily be broken.    

“Oh! C’mon son! Everything is so black and white with you. But there’s so many colors out there. You’re the one stuck on labels. Shawn’s not.” 

Carlton’s ire was up. His fingers tightened on Henry’s wrist, dangerously. ”Don’t you dare send him away!” 

“Send him? He’ll run away all on his own. He may have already packed.” 

Carlton dropped Henry’s wrist and reached with a swift motion to fully holster the Glock. Grabbing his suit jacket, Carlton stood up and stared down Henry. “Where is he?”   

After a prolonged moment, Henry said, “He said something about meeting you at some gay bar.” 

“Gay bar? He wouldn’t.” Carlton thought quickly. “Listen very closely Henry. He didn’t say the Neon Door?” 

“Yeah, said something about bringing a present for you. Act surprised.” 

“Son of bitch! There’s an accomplice!” Carlton roared and sprinted off toward his car. 

  

At the Neon Door, Shawn sweated in the musty club. It was a Friday night and the weekend officially had started. All sorts of men and some women were packing into the small club. 

A few had approached him, but Shawn made short work of their attention. None were the man he was looking for.  He didn’t feel like flirting even for free drinks. He wasn’t there to get laid. He was on the job.    

A job he reasoned that might get him some later if Lassie liked his gift.   Shawn scoped out the bar. He had set himself up at the corner nearest the alley and the bathroom.  He watched couples as they stumbled back and forth.   

The later it got, the wilder the crowd became. More action was happening near his post.  Still there was no sign of Lassie and no sign of the accomplice. It might help if he knew who he was looking for in the latter. 

The accomplice had to be here. Shawn was sure of that. If the accomplice was too smart to run now that the cops were involved. Plus, this was too tempting a set up. Shawn’s cover was blown and he was offering himself up here. No police protection  (unless Lassie got his message).    

So Shawn waited nursing a fake Rum and Coke. It was only Coca-Cola. When the ice cubes had completely melted, Shawn knew he needed another drink in his hands.  

He checked the crowd again. A lot of men checking cell phones, probably arranging hook ups, and getting blasted on cheap liquor. The few women left were partying down.  

Calling over the helpful bartender, Shawn ordered another. 

“You got it,” Matt replied.  

Shawn took a cautious sip and found still no Rum in the drink. “Thanks.” He gunned some of it down to stay in character. He leaned in to be heard above the crappy dance music. “Matteo, where is everybody tonight?” 

The young barkeep smiled, “Having a good time.” 

Shawn was going to say more, but he noticed something. It wasn’t much just some glitter on Matt’s shoulder. Shawn’s thoughts began to race.  Same glitter was in the victim’s eye shadow. Matt who was here every night, knew everybody who came in. Matt would be the perfect look out, perfect accomplice. 

Shawn realized that Matt was staring at him waiting for him to speak. “You?” 

Matt smiled a wide guileless smile. “Me.” 

Resting against the bar, Shawn felt proud of himself. “I got you.” He slurred. 

“You sure do.” Matt slid under the bar. “Hey, you wannna go out back? Charles, cover me.” 

Shawn knew he should stay put and wait for Lassie. But somehow this seemed right. He caught the accomplice.  The police should be waiting for them. Lassie should be waiting for them, out back. That sounded right, didn’t it?

Shawn shook his head.  His eyes weren’t working quite right. He grabbed at Matt to prevent him running away and missed. But Matt took his arm and dragged him through the short hall out the back door.    

Assaulting Shawn’s ears in the alley were the sounds of groans as men engaged in a variety of quick but surely satisfying sex acts.  Shawn idly wondered if Lassie would show up soon and if he would be averse to trying something.  

“Hey?” Matt’s face came into view. “You okay, Honey?” 

Shawn couldn’t answer anymore.  Matt half carried him around the corner into another even darker alley.  No moans here. This was a dark and scary place. 

Dropping Shawn’s half-conscious body, Matt smiled, still friendly, and started talking. “You are so smart, Psychic. Why didn’t you see this coming? ” 

Murmuring, Shawn tried to sit up but failed.     

“What’s that?” Matt searched the dark of the alley and came up with a large duffel bag. Opening it, he retrieved a hunting knife and unsheathed it.  

Walking steadily in Shawn’s direction, Matt grinned nastily, “You’ve got them all fooled.  But not us. We saw it when you looked at that detective, Lassie, you call him. But I bet you are the bitch?” 

The furious voice of Carlton Lassiter broke in. “Freeze! Police!”  Bright beams illuminated the scene. 

Matt dropped the knife and froze. 

“I got you, Carlton.” Juliet held the gun and flashlight steady as Carlton approached the perp. Roughly he cuffed Matt and as he wrenched the man around whispered something in his ear.   

 Juliet and two uniformed officers took over. Carlton relinquished his grip and ran to Spencer. Via flashlight beam, Lassie did a quick medical review of his state and screamed, “Get EMT! He’s been drugged!”

   

The next morning Shawn awoke with a splitting headache. He looked over to find Carlton asleep next to his hospital bed. 

“Lassie,” Shawn croaked. 

 The door opened and in walked Gus, carrying a bag from Shawn’s favorite waffle restaurant. Gus had a concerned look on his face and said a very quiet, ”Good morning.” 

 “I feel like I swallowed a cat. Not some small hairless either. I’m talking a Siberian.” Asked Shawn eager for information and the orange juice in Gus’s other hand. “Man, what happened?” 

“You single handedly closed the Murdoch case.” Whispered Gus as he laid out Shawn’s breakfast. The best friends shared a quick fist bump.       

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Shawn took a swig of orange juice. “Just exactly how did I do that?” 

There was some sleepy muttering from Carlton in his chair. 

Gus looked at him closely and lowered his voice even more. “Let him sleep.” 

Shawn shifted and looked at Lassie. “All night?”   

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Gus told his best friend, “All night. Lassiter made you throw up.” 

Shawn made a face. “That’s gross.”  

“You got that right.” Gus allowed. “They thought you might have been given an overdose of Rohypnol.” 

Now, it all made sense, the headache and memory loss. “Roofied.” 

Wondering when he last ate, Shawn dug into breakfast. “Hey, the syrup’s cold.” 

Gus rolled his eyes. “I’ll go find a microwave.”    

“And see if you can find some pineapple around this place. Fresh, not canned! Thanks, Buddy.” 

After the door closed behind Gus and the cold syrup, Shawn looked over at Lassiter. “You like your gift?” 

Staring right back at him was the wide-awake Carlton. “I swear to Sweet Lady Justice you ever pull a trick like that again-” 

“Did we get him?” interrupted Shawn. 

“Not the point, Spencer.” Lassie’s blue eyes blazed.   

Shawn sighed and sat back in the bed. “Back to that are we?” 

“We got him, full confession, but-” 

“Which body parts did you threaten?” 

Lassie leaned in and growled, “All of them” 

Shawn perked up and moved closer to the detective.      

There was a brisk knock on the door. Not waiting for a reply, Chief Vick walked in. “Good morning, I hear you are ready for release.” 

“Yeah” Shawn’s eyes were still on Lassie as he had only pulled back slightly. They were still in close proximity.   

“Tomorrow, we will need your statement.” 

That got Shawn’s attention. “Lassie can take it, now. I really don’t remember anything.” 

“Tomorrow, Mr. Spencer.” Vick looked meaningfully at them both. “Tomorrow is soon enough.” 

“Chief?” Asked Lassiter.  

“Already taken care of. O’Hara is handling the processing and paperwork. You have the day off. ” 

Lassiter made a mental note to do something nice for his partner as soon as possible.  This had to be awkward for O’Hara. 

“Whoa. Do I sense some latent psychic powers?” Shawn wiggled his fingers.  

“I sense latent something.” Karen did that half smile that meant she was hiding a bigger one.  She looked meaningfully at the two men’s hands that were almost touching on the bed.  

Before Shawn could move, Lassie snatched his hand up. Shawn was without words.  He looked at their joined hands and felt Lassie’s touch firm, yet gentle.   

Chief Vick nodded. “Good work. This time. But if you ever put yourself in this position again…”  

“I’ve got someone waiting for me.” Shawn said as if that made perfect sense.  

At about the same moment, Carlton replied, “He won’t,” 

“Tomorrow, gentlemen” 

And with that Lassie and Shawn were again alone.   

Not breaking eye contact, Carlton raised their joined hands to lips and softly kissed Shawn’s hand.  

Shawn licked his lips. “Lassie, take me home.”


End file.
